


Flawless

by BloodyCreaturePosterGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 02:55:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6452668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyCreaturePosterGirl/pseuds/BloodyCreaturePosterGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Imagine Dean coming to see you in your room (at the bunker) to see you looking into a mirror and trying to find all the flaws in your body. He comes up behind you and embraces you lovingly, telling you that you're perfect and he would still love you no matter what you looked like.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flawless

Fresh out of the shower you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your room of the bunker in nothing but a pair of panties. Your fingers worked lazily at unwinding your hair from its towel as you eyed the slice you received across the ribs on tonight’s Hunt. It wasn’t deep or anything that called to be worried about, but it was ugly none the less… and it would scar.   
Of course it would scar, you’d been a Hunter for nearly as long, if not longer than Sam and Dean Winchester if you could believe it. You had been born to a family of Hunters, the Hunt in your blood. Scars were just a natural occurrence in your line of business. Any other day and you would have been proud of the scars you bared… but not of late.   
With a sigh, you shook out your curls letting little drips of water snake down your skin and spatter against the glass. You were frustrated with yourself for being so silly. Here you were over thinking was would become a new battle scar when you should be grateful you were alive. You blamed him for the derailment of your steadfast confidence. Oh, you knew he was going to be a problem the moment that beautiful Impala rolled into your life.   
Your eyes rolled over your nearly naked reflection, studying the dips and curves of your figure. You didn’t think you were unattractive. Maybe your waist wasn’t as slim or your hips as narrow as others, but no two women were made the same. Your thumb brushed over the jagged scar above your navel, another battle scar from a time long before you met the brothers. It wasn’t a pretty scar and more often than not you wore long enough shirts to ensure it wouldn’t be seen. You knew the brothers had seen it, the brothers had seen nearly all of your scars.   
Working with others was as much a downside as it was a plus. They could piece you back together if something went wrong, and things had gone wrong on too many occasions. Up until recently the boys seeing you nearly naked hadn’t been a cringe worthy thought.   
Yes, Dean Winchester was definitely to blame for your insecurities but… what could you do? You had no idea how long you were going to be staying with them and to continue to let your insecurities get the better of you would only ruin the relationship you had with the brothers. That was something you did not want. You would stay forever if you thought that they would they might want you to.   
“Hey, Y/N, do you still have the first-”  
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the door to your room flung open and in walked the very man that had you so worked up, freshly showered and a clean pair of clothes on already.   
“Dean!” you shriek, arms shooting up to cover your breasts from his wandering green eyes.   
Dean didn’t bother to look away, but the customary smirk that you had expected to spread across his face didn’t show.   
“Y/N?” Dean’s tone was one of concern.   
“What the fuck do you want?” you snap, desperately looking for something, anything to cover up with. Where had that damn towel gone?   
“Relax Sweetheart, I was just lookin’ for the first aide,” Dean held his hands up in defense.   
“It’s on the dresser, take it and leave.”   
“What’s the rush?” Dean asked.   
“What’s the rush?” you ask in bewilderment. He was kidding right? “I’m more than half naked, Dean. That is the rush, now would you please leave?”   
However Dean only came closer, his eyes still roaming your nearly naked figure and settling on the slice across your ribs. You had shoved Sammy out of the way to get that cut, and though he hadn’t been close enough to do anything about it Dean felt partly responsible. You were living with the brothers now, Dean felt just as responsible for your safety as he did Sammy’s.   
“Let me help with that,” Dean offered gently.   
“I can do it myself,” you instantly shoot down. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.   
“Would you stop fightin’ me and accept my help already?” he asked patiently. Before you could open your mouth, Dean was cutting you off. “I know you can take care of yourself, but you and I both know that that would be easier to wrap with another set of hands.”   
Your shoulders slumped in defeat and your face flushed with heat. “Okay,” you sigh.   
“That’s a good girl.”   
You shoot Dean a dirty look as you shift your hands over your breasts to keep yourself covered, waiting anxiously for Dean to set about dressing your wound.   
“It’s clean?” he asked.   
“Funny how things get clean in the shower,” you deadpan, eyes rolling to the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with the older Winchester as he finally moved in on you.   
“You can get clean in the shower?” Dean asked sarcastically. “Huh, and I thought they were just for playtime. I’ll be damned.”   
You knew Dean was baiting you at this point and refused to bite, lips forming a thin line to keep yourself from retorting. You jumped at the contact with Dean’s fingers.   
“Sorry,” he mumbled.   
Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers set to work applying ointment, careful not to irritate the already inflamed skin. Unintentionally your eyes lower from the ceiling to watch Dean’s fingers work over your bare flesh, color filling your cheeks as your eyes catch his in the mirror. Here you were standing practically naked with Dean Winchester’s hands on you and you couldn’t believe it. Your skin felt hot and tight, your knees felt like they would give out at any moment, your heart beat wildly against your ribs, and you were sure you were being obvious in your attraction to the elder Winchester.   
Yet Dean didn’t seem to be even a little affected by your nakedness. He didn’t falter once, didn’t bat an eyelash as he worked, only seeming concerned about properly dressing the wound. It certainly didn’t make you feel any better about yourself when it came to the elder Winchester.   
Unknowingly you shifted your weight from one leg to the other for a third time since Dean knelt before you and he noticed. His eyes met yours questioningly in the mirror before tipping his head up to met your gaze in person.   
“Am I…hurting you?” he asked in concern, his hands sliding away from your wound, but not leaving your skin. You were painfully aware of the press of every one of his fingertips in your skin, the weight of his hot palms pressed against the curve of your waist.   
“N-no.” You voice breaks, your own hands pressing tighter over your breasts as though you were afraid your hands might slip. You could not meet Dean’s eyes another second longer, you were sure you would combust. Good God, this man is a sin, you think, eyes making contact with the ceiling again.   
You felt the shift of Dean’s weight as he stood to his feet more than you saw it, his handsome face coming into view out of your peripheral. Carefully Dean began to your ribs, his strong arms wrapping around you to get the gauze around you without dislodging your hands.   
“Elbows up, Sweetheart,” Dean mumbled, pulling the gauze tight enough to not slip. His fingers pressed into the gauze at the edge of your breast the moment your arms raised, cutting the gauze from the roll then somehow managing to tape the gauze in place single handedly. Constant injuries had a tendency of making one very good at doing things one handed.   
“Sure you’re alright?” he asked when he finished. You did not miss that his hands had yet to leave your skin, though he was finished and no longer needed to be so close. Was he trying to kill you? Surely he was. He had to know the affect he had on you and this was he form of torture.   
“Peachy, why do you ask?”   
“You haven’t looked at me since just after I started,” he pointed out knowingly. That was it, he’d figured you out. He had to have.   
“I’m practically naked, Dean,” you sigh.   
“So?”   
“So? So I’m nothing like the girls you go home with,” you snap, gaze finally locking with his again.   
“No,” Dean said with all seriousness. His gorgeous green eyes purposely racked down your frame slowly, deliberately. “You are nothing like them.”   
Unintentionally tears began to well in your eyes, you sunk your teeth into your lip and your eyes rolled back up to the ceiling. “Please… don’t look at me,” you whispered.   
“Oh…Sweetheart,” The tone of Dean’s voice made your heart squeeze. Maybe he didn’t know how you felt about him, but he certainly knew that you were self-conscious of all your little imperfections now.   
Wordlessly Dean centered you in front of the full length mirror and shifted around you, standing so close that every time you inhaled your shoulders brushed against his chest. Dean’s big hands wrapped around your wrists from behind you, pulling your arms away from your breasts and pressing your arms against your sides.   
“Dean! What the fuck are you-”  
“Do you have any idea what I see when I look at you?” Dean’s voice was low and gruff, his eyes hard as he met yours in the mirror.   
“A battered scratching post?”   
Dean’s fingers slid down to pinch your ass as a form of reprimand. “I see a strong, fearless Huntress with a heart of gold. I see a woman who can knock the biggest of men on their asses. An intelligent woman who knows what she wants and how to get it. I see a woman who can take care of herself and doesn’t need anyone, but for some reason she allowed to idiot brothers to invade her life and she takes care of them.”   
Dean let go of your arms but the look he shot you let you know that he would be very displeased with you should they move. His big hands slid down your sides to the edge of your panties, up over your belly, and up to brush the sides of your breasts.   
You were sure your heart would give out at the rate it was pounding, that or it would beat right out of your chest. You weren’t sure which would be the better option.   
“Most of all, I see the only woman that could bring me to my knees,” Dean said clearly, his hands pressing you back against his body. He held tight when you tried to shift away from him.   
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you nearly snarl in anger. Who did he think he was to fuck with your feelings like this? How did he have to have this kind of control over you? To make you question yourself, to make you feel self-conscious about what you wear or the scars that marred your flesh.   
“You think I’m lyin’?” Dean pressed his hand firmly against your belly to keep you exactly were he wanted you.   
“Did I stutter?” If looks could kill Dean would be terribly injured by the glare you leveled him with.   
“Why do you think I haven’t taken my hands off you?” Dean countered. “Because now that I’m touching you, I can’t stop. You are soft and warm and so damn beautiful.”   
“I look like a cutting board.”   
“You’re flawless,” Dean growled.   
You opened your mouth to speak but Dean refused to let you speak another ill word against yourself. His arms wrapped around you carefully, his face nuzzling into the side of your neck, hands spread wide over your exposed flesh as though he was desperate to touch every inch you of all at once. His warm lips pressed kisses across your shoulder and along the column of your throat, sucking softly at your ear lope to draw an unwilling moan from you.   
“Why are you doing this?” you hiccup, tears rolling over your cheeks.   
“Because I need you to understand that I would love you no matter what you look like. I think you are perfect the way you are and I don’t care about a few scars Sweetheart, hell I have my own. As long as you are you that’s all that matters to me,” Dean cooed.   
Your voice broke on a sob and you turned in Dean’s arms to press a kiss to his wonderful lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this train wreck lol didn't finish it the same way I started it and it derailed when I came back to it.


End file.
